sneak peek
by cedricsowner
Summary: An evening at the office, a shower and a ringing telephone. Not really M, but there is some nakedness in it. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement. **

_~ for niagaraweasel ~_

"For heaven's sake, can't anyone get this?"

Chance, dripping wet as he was and clothed with nothing but a blue towel around his hips, left tiny puddles on the floor as he headed down the stairs to the phone in the lobby.

It was their "red" phone. Granted, it wasn't really red, but when somebody called that number, red alert status usually followed suit. That phone ringing meant a friend of the family was in deep trouble. Calls coming in through the red phone had top priority. Yes, of course, they had an answering machine attached to it, but in those cases minutes could literally make a difference between life and death.

The office seemed deserted. Winston was on a weekend fishing trip, Guerrero was "renewing ties" with old business partners – Chance really didn't want to know any details – Ames had said something about a "night with the girls". He could have sworn, however, that Ilsa had been doing paperwork when he had decided taking a shower after workout. Judging from the heap of files on her desk he had assumed she'd pull an all-nighter and had vaguely contemplated calling in Chinese food later, to supply her with enough carbs. Well, maybe foundation business had called her away.

When Chance reached the phone, the ringing stopped. Apparently the caller had given up… or had been stopped…

Damn.

He tried checking the number, but the ID had been suppressed.

Grumbling he trudged up the stairs, reentered his bathroom, turned on the shower….

_Ring-Ring. Ring-Ring. _

Chance rushed down the stairs once more, barely being able to keep the towel in place with his left hand. He reached for the phone….

Again the caller had hung up only seconds before he had been able to answer.

Frowning at the device, Chance put it back on the charging station. He would have taken it upstairs, but the battery had taken some damage this morning when Guerrero had tried a new, apparently not completely finalized anti-spying technology. They hadn't managed to replace it yet.

He walked upstairs, thinking that maybe he should give up taking a shower for today, he had already washed off the sweat after all. On the other hand his muscles were still sore from yesterday's little adventure at the railway station. Grumbling, he entered his bathroom for the third time that evening. This was really odd about the red phone…

Downstairs, in the conference room, Ilsa was wondering if she should risk calling Chance out of the shower a third time. It was silly and sort of irresponsible, abusing the red phone like that, but on the other hand she was in kind of a rebellious mood. Yesterday at the railway station she had caught a glimpse of Chance in his boxer shorts…. she just wanted a closer look.

Hell, from time to time she was allowed to let her hormones take over, too, wasn't she? And she and Chance had had some quite _close encounters _lately. It was just that they were… for lack of a better word… too shy to cross a certain line. Probably not a good idea anyway, considering that they worked together and all.

But a tiny bit of peeking at what she was missing out on should be okay. Especially since she did it very secretly, with the help of the security cam in the lobby. The computer table's monitor really had an impressively high resolution… Chance's well-defined chest muscles were perfectly visible… not to mention those broad shoulders… and his barely covered backside. Ilsa decided all good things came in threes and reached for her phone again.

Two strong hands suddenly resting on her shoulders made her freeze in mid-movement.

"How in the world did you get out of the bathroom?", she blurted out before she realized that she just confessed she had indeed watched him.

Chance's grip prevented her from turning around and looking at him, but she could tell from his voice that he was grinning mischievously.

"Climbed out the window, used the stucco to get to the window on the other side, climbed back in…"

She should have known he'd figure it out. "I'm sorry", she mumbled, blushing.

"You owe me something, Ilsa…"

She sighed. The boys were pretty good at devising creative methods of punishment for lapses during jobs, and abusing the red phone definitely fell into that category… what would he come up with this time around? She could only hope he wouldn't confer with Guerrero first…

"A towel", Chance chuckled. "You owe me a new towel. I lost mine when I climbed back in through the kitchen window."

Oh.

The grip of his hands on her shoulders loosened and turned into a gentle message. Ilsa sighed again, but not from desperation this time…. His golden touch was sending sparks down her spine. To hell with lines and shyness. She slowly turned around.

"I don't think you'll need a new towel tonight, Mr. Chance."


End file.
